


Line of sight

by TheIceQueen



Series: Sam's blue book [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Black Eye, Comforting Sam, Confused Sam, Doctors & Physicians, Driving, Embarrassed Dean, Embarrassment, Eye Trauma, Eyepatch, Fear, Headaches & Migraines, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Major Character Injury, Medical, Medical Inaccuracies, Medical Procedures, Name-Calling, Needles, Nervous Dean, Nervousness, Pain, Panic, Phobias, Scared Dean, Secrets, Talking, Tired Dean, Tired Sam, Toothache, Vomiting, Worried Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-09-20
Packaged: 2018-12-30 20:37:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12116778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheIceQueen/pseuds/TheIceQueen
Summary: Dean learns about Sam's blue book and because Dean's eye-injury is taking too long to heal, Sam convinces Dean that today is the day to use it.Set somewhere in the beginning of season three.





	1. A name in a book

”What are you looking for? What is that book anyway?”

Dean was making his way through a cheeseburger when he decided to confront his brother’s silence. Sam hadn’t said a word since they’d come back to the room and he hadn’t touched the chicken-wrap at all.

“We need to get someone to look at that eye Dean.” Sam shifted through the pages of the little blue book in his hands.

“I’m fine Sam. C’mon it’s just the swelling. It’ll go down.” Dean didn’t think Sam had worried that much about it. He’d asked him in the car when he’d rubbed it, but he’d brushed it off to just being fussing-Sam making conversation.

Around a week ago they’d encountered a poltergeist. Things were thrown around the farmhouse and something had hit him. The poltergeist was dealt with in the end and the only thing baring witness to the event was the mess they’d left and the black shiner decorating Dean’s right eye. It hadn’t resulted in a concussion and even though he looked terrible the day after it hadn’t hurt that bad. On day three he couldn’t open his right eye. The skin around it was black, his right cheek and chin were covered in purple and blue nuances. His left eye was even shoving some blue color too. But the color and the swelling was almost gone, only an itch which he couldn’t get rid of, was left, so he really didn’t get why Sam started to talk about help now. His younger brother was still looking for something in that book. He’d seen Sam write in it before, but he’d never really given it any thought.

“Sam! Stop for a sec.”

Sam looked up and met the gaze of a confused Dean.

“What are you looking for in there?” Dean wanted to stop this now and just get on with the day. It would be good to find a case. Now that he’d be able to go outside without scarring people. “It better be a case.”

“I’m sure I wrote it down in here…” Sam was talking to himself, still not looking up.

“Wrote WHAT down? What is that book!” Dean stood up to let Sam know that he demanded the attention. Sam looked up at him and sighed.

“Okay. I’ve used it to write the names down of people who can help.”

Dean pulled up the chair and sat down backwards, with his arms crossed on top of the backrest. He rubbed his eye without even noticing until the pressure from the hand made the itching into a burning. He shook his head and focused on Sam. “Help?”

“Yeah. You know whenever someone mentions a doctor or a professional of some kind, who either knows about hunting or are willing to help under the radar, I write down the information.” Sam closed the book and folded his hands around it, waiting for Dean’s response.

“Let me get this right… You’ve been running a round with a book full of names, just in case one of us gets hurt?”

“Is that so crazy? I mean considering what we do, and that right now hospitals are pretty much out of the question.”

Dean had to admit that it was probably not a bad idea to have some kind of emergency-contact-list, but who would be in it. They didn’t really fit well with doctors and physicians in their every-day-life. “How many names do you have in there?”

Sam seemed surprised by the question, he probably expected some kind of ridicule, but this was actually a good idea, even though they certainly didn’t need it now.

“Don’t know. Maybe twenty-five, thirty.”

“That many! Who?” Dean was not expecting more than five in addition to Ellen and Bobby, who didn’t need to be in a book.

Sam shifted a bit in his seat. “You remember when I got shot, on the twin-ghost-case?” Dean nodded and Sam shoved him the first page in the book.

 

_EMILY PETERSEN_

_LONGMONT, CO_

_(303) 532-4389_

_(KNOWS HUNTING)_

 

“Hmm. I didn’t see that coming. I mean you guys did get pretty close, with you getting shot in the ass and all, but you haven’t talked about her since.”

Sam didn’t look like he even heard the comment he just turned a few pages over and shoved him a new name.

 

_LIEUT. ROBERT J. HAMMOND M.D._

_BEAVER, UT._

_(435) 421-6312_

_(KNOWS HUNTING)_

 

Dean remembered the town. “Beaver… was that the military doctor with the cute daughter?”

“Dean she was like thirteen.” Sam sent his brother a disapproving look.

“Hey. You were Mr. Nice Guy with her. I just really liked her cooking.” He didn’t let Sam defend himself. “How did you get all of those names?”

“Two or three from dad’s journal, but most is from Ellen and Bobby.”

“Ellen and Bobby knows about this?” He was not surprised that Sam would keep a book like that, but why would he tell others and not him? It could be helpful if Sam got hurt one day. “Why not me?”

Sam looked down at the book. “We are able to patch each other up almost every time. You would jump to the conclusion that I thought that wasn’t good enough. This is just for emergencies, Dean, not because I worry too much. It’s for when we need a second, more professional set of eyes, or hands… like today.”

Sam looked at Dean. It seemed like minutes before Dean broke eye-contact.  Dean stood up and puled the chair back towards the rest of the burger. “We don’t need it today. My eye is fine.”

“Dean…”

“No, Sam!” Dean sat down not looking at his brother coming closer. “It’s great you have the book, really it is. For when I’m bleeding out or my back is broken, but not for a black eye. I’m not starting to go to regularly check-ups either.”

Sam sat down across the table. “Your eye is red, it’s obviously itching or burning, because you can’t stop touching it, and I’m not sure your skin is the only thing that’s swollen anymore.”

Dean became extra aware about the itchiness of his eye and, per reflex, rubbed it again, this time stopping his movement fast and hoping that Sam didn’t notice. Sam definitely noticed. He was looking at him with that I’m-right.-Am-I-not?-look and Dean could smell the concern from his brother from across the table. Dean pushed the last of his burger to the side. “Sam. I’m…”

“Don’t say you’re fine.” Sam cut him off. “Just do me a favor.” Dean watched Sam placing the blue book on the table.

“What?” He did think that this was going to go away by itself, so he could play along for a second to convince Sam.

“Cover your left eye and read this name.” Sam opened the book but didn’t turn it to Dean. Dean sighed, he might as well do it. He covered his left eye with his hand and was instantly stunned by the blurriness he was left with. He hadn’t thought to check his eye like this. He knew it was a bit blurry, but he had brushed that off to being from swelling around the eye. Sam turned the book around and Dean tried to focus on the lettering. It was almost not visible that there was anything on the page.

“How am I supposed to read your crow’s feet Sam? Besides, that name can’t be American, I can’t pronounce that.” By now his eye hurt. He covered it with the other hand and bend his head. The pain increased and surrounded his head. He tried to remove his hands but the light in the room made it unbearable to see. Soon all he knew was pain. He lost sense of where he was.

“Dean!” The voice was too loud and made him flinch and he fell. Strong arms catched him and rescued him from a nasty impact with the floor. “Sammy?”

“I got you. What’s happening?” Sam talked softly now.

“My head.” Dean was in a fixed position on the floor with his upper body on Sam’s legs and his head in Sam’s arms. It’s was getting better fast now. The pain subsided and he was able to open his eyes slightly. He started to get up. “I’m okay.”

“You’re not okay Dean. Let me get you some water.” With Sam’s unwelcome help he got back on the chair and Sam went to the sink. Dean looked at the book, trying to focus. With both eyes, it was easier to read.

 

_MISSOURI MOSLEY_

_LAWRENCE, KANSAS_

_(785) 393-8014_

_(PHYCHIC. KNOWS HUNTING)_

 

Great. It was all capital letters and the name was even a state. He had fooled no one. He even knew her. The book was removed and a glass of water replaced it. “I’m going to make a call. She might know who can help.” Dean didn’t argue. He still didn’t think it was a big deal, it would most definitely blow over, but if Missouri knew someone he might as well go. If for nothing else, then to shut op Sam.


	2. A closer look

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's not many things able to scare Dean Winchester. In reality, he only fears three things; airplanes, needles and showing fear.

Missouri had given Sam a name of a real eye-specialist who she had helped a few years back. She’d call first so everyone was up to speed when they got there. It was only a few hours’ drive, but Sam had been adamant that they’d leave immediately.

Dean had put up quite the fight when Sam had taken the driver's seat. Sam had not budged so now Dean was in the passenger's seat. The car was left in silence, they had tried to listen to music but Dean’s headache had returned so they turned that of. Dean was not talking to Sam. He was annoyed that everything he did or tried to do would just prove once again that Sam might be right. Sam wasn’t talking either, Dean contemplated that he was just content with getting him this far. Dean looked out the window and tried to remember. He didn’t think that he’d ever visited an eye doctor. He’d brought Sam to an optician once to check if he needed glasses. They had left with the message that prober lighting was important when reading. As if the optician knew about the lighting in the places they were staying. That wasn’t a doctor though, so Dean concluded that he had no idea what to expect.

They were there after closing and it was only the doctor who was still there. He greeted them in the empty waiting room. “I’m doctor Adams, but friends of Missouri can call me Mark.”

He was a large guy. Actually, Dean felt a bit threatened standing so close to a stranger who was just as tall as Sam. He had on a white doctor’s coat and in the chest pocket he had a small pair of reading glasses. He was a man in his fifties and his short gray hair matched the well-trimmed beard to perfection. “You must be Dean.” He reached out to shake Dean’s hand and after he shook Sam’s. “Which makes you Sam. Will you be okay waiting out here?”

Sam looked at Dean as if he needed his approval. Dean didn’t react. He wanted Sam in there to tell him ‘I told you so’. But again, it would probably be good to do this without Sam’s worrying eyes glued to him. Sam nodded and sat down and Dean went in another room with the doctor.

In the bright and very white room, Mark gestured to a chair and Dean sat down. The doctor himself pulled a small chair with wheels up and sat down in front of him. “Now. I guess you’ve gotten some kind of blunt force trauma, right?” Dean nodded. “How long ago was this?”

“Eight days.” Dean looked at the doctors every move as he pulled over a small table with some drawers under it. He opened the top on and pulled out a pen-flashlight.

“Did it result in concussion?” Dean shook his head. “No.”

“I’m just going to shine a light and have a look. I’ll do both eyes. Look up, not into the light, okay?”

“Sure thing doc.” Dean looked up and was ready to get the hell out of there. He was already looking forward to hearing the doctor telling Sam that nothing was wrong.

The light annoyed his right eye more than he’d be willing to admit and it was difficult to keep it open. The doctor seemed to pick up on his struggle, but he didn’t stop, he got a bit closer. The light got more intense and Dean could smell the doctor’s cologne. Which, honestly wasn’t bad. It was nice to be in a clean setting for once.

“I’d like to take a closer look, if you don’t mind.” Mark turned around and let Dean blink to gather focus again. Dean didn’t know what that meant, the doctor couldn’t possibly get any closer without crawling under his eyelid.

“I guess.” Dean sounded more nervous than he was comfortable with.

“Nothing to worry about. I’ll just have to see through a lens and I’ll drip your eye with some coloring first to highlight any damage.”

Dean didn’t like this. He must have seen something in his eye, otherwise he wouldn’t want to get a closer look. Nothing had ever been in his eye before. Not intentionally anyway. An occasional fly or some sand, but never eye-drops. He just never had the need.

The doctor came over. “Lean back and look at the ceiling. This won’t hurt you.”

Dean did as told, and the man placed a huge hand on Dean’s forehead. When the other hand brought a small flask into his line of sight, he automatically closed his eyes. The doctor waited a second while Dean realized what happened. He opened his eyes. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine. Most people do that. You ready?”

“Yeah.” Dean put all his effort into keeping his eyes open and he saw the drop forming above him. As soon as the drop hit he closed his eyes again. He broke free of the grip and sat up, he moved his hand to rub his eye but he was stopped mid-movement. “No rubbing, Dean.”

Dean looked at the man. His sight was now tinted with a pale green but it didn’t seem worse. Mark brought over a contraption of sorts, Dean remembered something like it from when Sam was at the optician.

“Put your chin here.” The doctor shoved him a small shelf, shaped to fit a chin. Dean put his head there and Mark put on his glasses, turned off the lights and did the same thing on the other side.

They were face to face. It was weird to be so close to another man, but as soon at the light in the contraption was turned on, all Dean could see was a small black hole in the middle.

“Just sit still and look at the black dot.” Dean could hear the thing clicking and something glass and metal moving. His stomach turned into a knot. What was happening? The doctor said he was only going to look, but this was too weird not to be alarmed about possible surprises.

“Okay. Just sit back I’ll turn on the light now.” Dean lifted his head, sat back in the chair and didn’t have time to adjust to the darkness in the room before it was gone. The doctor moved the thing away and sat down again.

“So, Doc. What’s the verdict? Can I sleep it off?”

The doctor put his glasses back in his pocket. “I’m afraid it won’t go away by itself. You have developed Uveitis, which means your eye is inflamed and because of it, swollen. That’s why you are having problems seeing. I can imagine you’re experiencing some serious pain too.”

“Yeah, but it’s nothing I can’t handle. So, what? I need eye-drops?”

“Because the inflammation is inside the eye, the drops won’t work I’m afraid.” Dean felt the bad news gaining up on him. Was he seriously going blind? What does that mean when it’s only one eye? Can he still hunt? What about the pain? Would he eventually lose the entire eye? Where was Sam when he needed him to ask all the questions he didn’t want to ask himself?

“Did you hear me?” The doctor looked concerned.

“Yeah… no. I’m sorry.” Dean got back to reality and gathered himself for what was coming next.

“I can treat it right here and now, but you might have to come back a few times.” The man looked at Dean as if he wasn’t quite sure if he’d heard him this time either.

“Okay. I guess I can do that.” Dean was relieved but didn’t want to spend too much time here. He would like to go hunting soon, he was already going crazy with the slow pace over the last few days and now this. “How are you going to treat it if drops don’t work?”

“It’s called intravitreal injection.” Dean could feel the blood rushing from his face and the Doctor could obviously see it. He paused and let the patient collect himself. Dean did not like the word injection, it meant needle, which meant stuff he couldn’t see under his skin. Which meant that he would puke all over and maybe pass out, if it took long enough.

“So.” Dean started. “You shoot me up with some kind of drug and it cures my eye?” Dean was wringing his hands. “My shoulder or in the vein.” He really hoped it would just be in the muscle, he couldn’t stand being able to watch the needle going directly into the vein.

“No, Dean. Intravitreal injection means an injection to the eye itself.”


	3. The truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is running out of there. That's if Sam wasn't there to stop him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter the narrator is connected to Sam. I wanted to show his confusion and thought this was the best way. Maybe I'll do it again for a later chapter.

Sam was trying to read one of the magazines in the light of the small table-lamp in the otherwise dark waiting room. He had been sitting there for almost half an hour, when the door flew open and a pale-white Dean ran out.

“Sam. We’re leaving!” Sam saw his brother stumble towards the exit and somehow reached him before he got it open.

“What’s going on, Dean?” Dean struggled to get past Sam, but Sam was able to stay positioned between him and the door. “Nothing I’m just leaving. It’ll blow over!”

Sam looked passed Dean for a second and met the doctor’s eyes as he came out of the exam room. He looked slightly startled by Dean’s reaction, but he was calm when he shook his head. “Dean, you need this. The pain will get worse and you’ll go blind.”

“It’s only one eye, I have two!” Sam was confused. Only one thing would make Dean freak in a doctor’s office, but he’d never seen anything suggesting it could escalate to this. “Dean what is freaking you out?”

Dean was still struggling but not as much. It seemed like he’d realized that he wasn’t able to fight his way out of this. “The damn dr. Santa Claus, want to stab a needle in my eye!”

Sam still had his hands around Dean’s wrists and now he noticed how his hands were shaking. He looked at the doctor and mouthed _sorry_. The doctor didn’t seem hurt by the comment.

Sam wrapped one arm around the shoulders of Dean. “Can we get a moment for ourselves?”

“Sure. I’ll clean up a bit, just knock.” The tall man closed the door between them and left Sam, in the almost completely dark room, with his trembling and now hyperventilating older brother.

“Dean. Calm down, will you?”

“The hell I will! Didn’t you hear what he wanted to do?” Dean started to fight his way past Sam again, but Sam held him in place.

“Sit down for a sec, Dean. Let’s talk about it.”

“There’s nothing to talk about. It’s not happening!” Dean fought Sam’s movement towards the chairs. Sam was not sure what to do in this situation. He had been able to keep his brother somewhat calm on that plane, but this was a different monster he was fighting.

“Sit down!” Sam commanded when Dean’s fast breathing made him sway from side to side. Sam was able to move him to a chair by now. He got him seated and pulled his head down between his legs. Dean’s breathing slowed down a bit and he tried to sit up, but Sam held him in place till he was able to speak.

“Okay. Let me sit. I’m done freaking.” Dean sounded angry, but Sam wasn’t sure if it was directed at him, the doctor or Dean himself. Dean sat up and Sam pulled a chair over so he could still be directly in front of his brother, who was still shaking slightly.

“What did he say?” Sam was worried more than ever. He’d never seen Dean freak like that and if he were to start up again he didn’t know what to do.

“I told you.” Dean was definitely working his way into the tough guy role again. “He wants to stab a needle in my eye, and he want me to come back so he can do it again.”

Dean had always had a fear of needles. Sam knew that the first time he saw his father stitching Dean up. Dean had puked all over the kitchen floor and then he’d passed out. He never ran from it though. He toughed it up and sat still, mostly in silence while his face slowly would turn a greyish white. He never looked. Dean always removed his stitches on his own, behind a locked bathroom door. First time Sam had to remove Dean’s stitches, because he couldn’t reach, he told him that it wasn’t the pain, but the feeling of something moving under his skin. Something that was not supposed to be there. This time there was no toughing it up, no sitting still and he was not able to look away. Sam sighed. “Did he say what was wrong? Aren’t there any other way?”

Dean looked at his brother. Sam almost thought he saw water in his eyes, but Dean looked down before he could be sure. “It’s inflamed… inside. Or something. Drops won’t work.”

Sam wanted to get up and out of there. Tell Dean that the doctor was wrong and then just drive, but Dean’s repeated rubbing of the eye and the obvious headache he was trying to hide, told Sam that it wouldn’t be an option.

“Did he tell you how it is going to happen?” Sam dreaded the answer. What if it was a big needle and it would hurt. He would never get Dean to do that. Hell, he wouldn’t do that himself.

“I… I kinda bolted out of there before he got the chance.” Dean looked at his hands and Sam followed his gaze. They were still shaking and Dean seemed annoyed by it and started wringing them. Sam folded both his hands around his brother’s. “Let’s at least hear what this is all about, before bolting out the next door.”

Dean shook his head, like he was playing over scenarios in there. “I won’t Sam. No matter what… I can’t.”

Sam had never heard Dean say _I can’t._ It was always, _I won’t_ or _It’s not necessary._ Dean must have realized that there was no way of getting out of this without the full truth. Sam took a deep breath. “You might have to. I’ll go in with you. Listen to what the doctor has to say, and if I don’t think it’s the only option or if it doesn’t seem safe, I’ll be the one knocking the door down and hauling us out. Deal?”

Sam watched as Dean processed his words. He started to stand. He rubbed his eye and by the looks of it he sent another wave of pain through his skull. Sam grabbed him as he almost fell over. He quickly got stable on his feet and brushed of Sam. He stood still for a few seconds and then he took a step towards the exam room. Sam was relived but followed closely, just in case his brother would turn and run for the other door. Dean didn’t run, but when he was at the closed door, he stopped completely he turned slowly to Sam, who was standing right behind him. “I can’t. Sam. This is stupid. It’s just a black eye.”

Sam’s heart sunk by how defeated and small his brother sounded. And he felt like the worst brother in history as he reached over Dean’s shoulder and knocked the door.


	4. Fight or flight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is seeing no way out of this and he is experiencing a full-blown panic attack.

“Come in.” The voice sounded like it came from the other side of the room. Dean had worried that the door would open and he would stand between the two big men. He felt threatened and cornered standing between Sam and the door. He could see the concern in Sam’s face and the petty in his eyes. Dean hated that, but without it this might had been worse, because Sam wasn’t playing around. There was no doubt they were going in that room. Sam reached past him again and opened the door. Dean turned quickly, all senses on high alert. He was not going to let anything surprise him.

“Come in and sit for a sec. I didn’t get to tell you about the procedure. It sounds more scary than it is, I promise.” Sam pulled Dean towards two chairs and they sat down. The doctor started talking, his speech was calm and kind, but the words did nothing to calm Dean.

“You’ll lie on your back and I’ll clean around the eye first. I’ll use… …device to hold open… …drop of numbing-agent… …disinfectant… …won’t hurt… …needle…”

 _Needle._ The words disappeared but one lingered. _Needle. Needle. Needle._

Sam’s hand was on his. He looked up.

“Dean. Did you hear any of that?” Sam looked concerned. Dean could feel the sweat building up on his forehead and his hands were cold and clammy. Sam must have felt that.

“Can’t you just knock me out?”

The doctor bend forward and put his elbows on his knees, like he was talking to a child. “Like I said. I need you to look to the left. Besides, when we sleep our eyes move. You have to be awake for this.”

“Okay.” Sam said. Then he turned to Dean. “I don’t see a way around this. Let’s just get it over with so we can leave.”

“No.” Dean wanted to sound angry but he just sounded scared and sad. “Sammy. Please…”

“M’ sorry Dean. But you have to do this. You’ll go blind.” Sam started to stand, not letting go of Dean’s hand. Dean followed reluctantly.

The doctor shoved them past the exam-table, to another room. He gestured to a bed in the middle. “I thought it would be easier in here.”

Dean sat down on the mattress. It was a hospital bed, but still a bed and not a table. “Just lay down and get comfortable I’ll get ready.”

Dean looked at the doctor, not really doing anything. He went to a tray already set and opened a bottle. He must have used the time before to set up. Sam blocked his line of sight.

“Lay down. C’mon.” He pushed gently on Dean’s shoulder and Dean leaned back. He was almost half way down when he shot up. “No!”

Sam held him on the bed, but didn’t try to push him down again. They struggled and Dean felt his breathing getting faster. He could hear his heart rate in his ears. He was losing. His body was not responding like he wanted. Sam let go of his shoulder and tried to get a grip on his wrist. Dean saw an opening and survival took over. He punched Sam in the jaw and headed for the door.

He was met by Mark. The middle-aged doctor suddenly looked larger than before. He blocked him, held his wrists as Dean tried to fight his way through. Once he was totally locked in the doctor’s grip, he noticed that the big man didn’t look at him. He looked towards the bed. “Are you okay?”

Sam coughed. “Mm… yeah.” Dean turned and looked at his little brother on the floor, only sitting up with the support from one arm.

“Let me go.” He didn’t look at Mark, but the doctor must have realized that he was not going out the door anymore. He let go and Dean rushed to Sam.

“Sorry, man. You okay?” Sam sat up a bit more and then spat. Dean noticed it being mostly blood. “Sorry.”

“I’m okay.” Sam got up by Dean’s help. Dean sat down on the bed again.

“I don’t know what happened. I just can’t Sammy.” Dean didn’t recognize his own voice. It was too small and it sounded like he would start full on bawling any minute. He didn’t think he would, but pleading was obviously becoming a part of his skill set.

Sam moved around the bed and stood behind Dean. “Lie down and look at me.” He reached over and grabbed Dean’s hand. Dean found it easier when he was turning towards Sam and not away from him, so slowly, but surely, he got down on his back.

The doctor placed the tray on a table and rolled it over. Dean felt his hand tightening around Sam’s but he couldn’t help it. As the doctor sat down and put on gloves, both Dean’s hands found Sam’s biceps and pulled him down and himself to the other side of the bed.

“Dean. Come down.” Dean saw his younger brother looking down at him. His brown hair framing his face and almost touching Dean’s. Obviously, Sam could see that he wasn’t able to calm down. Dean couldn’t even answer, he had difficulty breathing. With every breath, it got more shallow and slightly faster. His lungs began to hurt and his head got fuzzy. Soon he couldn’t see Sam’s face right over him.

He felt someone pushing him, moving him. He fought it, or tried to, he wasn’t sure what the movement was all about until he felt a hand under his knees, bending his legs. Dean felt the warmth of another person lying beside him, one arm moving under his head and another holding his knees.

“S’mmy. Wh’t?”

“It’s me Dean. Breathe or you’ll pass out.”

A quick feeling of awkwardness rushed through his mind, but he let it go, because he could feel his muscles relaxing by each second. He concentrated on calming his breathing.

_C’mon Dean. This is ridiculous. Just breathe normally._

He kept talking to himself in silence and he managed to gain some control of his body.

_Just a bit more. Breathe. I’ll be able to see again. Sam is here. Breathe. At least someone is on control._

He relaxed his neck and rested his head against Sam’s chest.

_That’s it Dean. Now open your eyes. It will be over fast. Just one needle._

Dean’s heart speed up. He couldn’t think about it. He grasped even harder onto Sam’s arm and his lungs started burning again.


	5. What if I pass out?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is really happening. Thank God Sam is there and that he is taking charge of the situation.

“Dean!” Sam moved a hand to Dean’s shoulder. “Stop it now! Open your eyes!” Dean’s eyes sprang open. He looked in to Sam’s.

“Are you with me?” Sam had lowered his voice but still talked firmly. Not breaking eye-contact. Dean nodded and looked down at their two bodies. Sam was on his side with his knees bent slightly. Dean himself were laying on his back, using Sam’s upper arm as a pillow. His legs were bent and leaned against Sam’s hips. Damn, his brother was big. Sam was still holding Dean’s shoulder with his free arm and Dean had bored all ten fingers into the skin and muscle of the same upper arm. He slowly loosened his grip and with the tenderness he felt in the joints he was surprised that he hadn’t made Sam bleed. He hadn’t been so close to Sam since… he wasn’t really sure, but back then he was the biggest. He pushed away.

“No. Dean.” Dean could have sworn it was his father talking. “You stay put, till this is over.” This time there was no doubt. He had heard that before. He was sitting on his father’s lap, held so he couldn’t move. By his size he couldn’t have been more than ten, when he got that tetanus shot. That was the day he decided that he didn’t like needles. His dad held him close and even though he tried to be tough, he had cried when he saw the syringe. His father was kind, but determined. Most of all he was calm. Just like Sam was now.

“I don’t need a farther.” His voice was raw and not much more than a growl. Sam seemed surprised by the statement.

“I know.” Sam paused. “But you need this. And this is the way it going to happen.” Dean sized Sam up. He wasn’t budging. Maybe the stubbornness, Sam clearly had inherited from John Winchester, could be used for something after all. Dean wished that it wasn’t in this setting he had learned that though.

“Do you guys need anything else before we proceed?” The voice of Mark made Dean jump and he once again grabbed onto Sam’s arm. Sam looked inquisitively at Dean and then looked back up at the bearded man. “Do you have a bucket… Till after?”

The doctor smiled and nodded. He turned away and when he came back he put something on the floor. He sat down next to them and once again, put on gloves.

“Breathe, Dean.” Sam must have noticed Dean holding his breath when Mark sat down.

“M… ‘kay” Dean was sweating and he tried to calm down. He really tried. He hated that he couldn’t just do this. He was making a fool of himself and he couldn’t do anything to stop it. The only thing that helped was Sam being almost wrapped op around him, and that was embarrassing as hell.

Dean was watching the doctor's every move. He had moved the table back a bit while Sam… fixed the situation. Now he pulled it closer and Dean saw everything. Two different small flasks, some cotton balls and paper, a metal contraption, which made Dean’s stomach turn onto a knot. The furthest from him was syringe with clear fluid and a small plastic wrapping, which he could only presume contained the needle. He couldn’t look anymore. He would freak out again if he saw it, so he turned his head and buried his face in Sam’s chest. He felt like a baby and he hoped to God that Sam wouldn’t cradle his head or worse start telling him that it was okay. Sam didn’t. He held still and remained silent.

“Dean. I need you to turn your head now.” Dean took a few deep breaths and Sam must have felt it, because he nodded at the doctor and they both waited till Dean turned his head.

“I’ll tell you everything I’m doing. First I’m just cleaning your skin so go ahead and close your eyes.” Dean looked at Sam. He wasn’t so experienced at the ‘doggy eyes’ as Sam was, but his brother got it. It just didn’t help. Sam nodded at him to go ahead, but squeezed his shoulder, as if to tell him; _I’m still here._ Dean closed his eyes. He jumped a bit by the coldness, but he remained still doing the cleaning around his eye.

“Next thing is a numbing drop. It’s just like the one earlier. Remember?” Dean opened his eyes and nodded. The doctor had already gotten the little flask. “But this time, no sitting up or trying to rub it. We need it to stay in there, okay?”

Dean was okay with that. He was just surprised earlier. However, every time they did something, they got closer to the injection. Dean’s heart was about to jump out of his chest. He was concentrating so hard on his breathing and not moving that he couldn’t speak.

“Look at the ceiling.” The giant hand with the tiny flask moved in over him. Dean saw the drop starting to form. Here it comes. Dean closed his eyes and the drop rolled off his eyelid and into his hair right above the ear. “Try to look at something else. It’s a reflex, we can’t help closing our eyes when we know it’s coming.”

Dean opened his eyes again. He still couldn’t answer so he just looked at the ceiling a bit further back. This time he only saw a shadow and when the drop hit he closed his eye but didn’t move.

“Very well Dean.” The doctor sounded impressed. Dean wasn’t. He was still barely holding it together. Sam’s hand moved from his shoulder to his chest. He didn’t say anything, but with that signal he showed Dean that he knew. He knew that Dean’s heartbeat was crazy, that his breathing wasn’t really under control. He knew that Dean was struggling. Dean looked at him. Sam’s eyes were filled with concern, there wasn’t trace of any awkwardness. Dean locked eye-contact and swallowed a few times.

“Are you going to be sick?” Dean could feel Sam’s body tensing. He shook his head no. “Sure?”

Dean nodded and looked over to the doctor, who was already holding the little metal thingy. “Are you good to continue. We need to do this now or we'll have to start over.” Dean nodded, took a few deep breaths to build memento for a word; “O-okay.”

“This will keep your eye open. It won’t hurt, but it might be uncomfortable.” _I would think so!_ Dean thought to himself. The doctor bend over him and lifted his upper eyelid with a finger. The thing came closer and Dean’s breaths became small jolts of gasps. He managed to lay still as the doctor moved the lover eyelid too and the metal thing was now holing his eye open. Mark turned around and let the metal thing just sit there.

“Calm your breathing. You’re jumping a bit here.” Dean looked at Sam. He was smiling. He didn’t look as worried at before, but still on edge, ready to do whatever it takes to get this done. Dean was sure of it. Dean focused on his breathing again looking at Sam.

“That’s good Dean. Keep looking at your brother and it’ll be over soon.” Per reflex Dean turned his head to the right to see the doctor, but he had his back turned again. Sam’s hand turned Dean’s head to face the ceiling, and held it there. “Look at me.”

There was no arguing about this. He looked to the left and found Sam’s eyes. “Okay.” The word was mostly an exhale. Dean’s breathing was ragged and fast but somewhat under control. A blur of white came towards him and he smelled the cologne again. He felt his hand’s going numb and his knees spinning.

“O, God… O, God, Sammy.” He was only whispering. “Shhh. Breathe.” Sam whispered too, but more slowly and controlled. “Wh’t ‘f… P’ss out?”

The doctor put a hand on his forehead. “If you pass out I’ll have to stop and start over again when you wake op.”

Dean sustained the eye-contact with Sam. “He won’t pass out.” Sam said it with a confidence that almost convinced Dean that he could do this.

“Okay. Hold still. It won’t hurt, but you’ll feel some pressure.” Dean tensed his whole body, but he didn’t move. His breathing got faster again, but it was controlled so he wasn’t gasping for air. He felt the pressure on his eye.

_It’s inside me. It’s inside my eye._

Dean’s stomach cramped and he wanted to wrap his arms around it.

_Don’t move. Look at Sam. Hold on to Sam._

Then the pressure was gone. He still didn’t move.

“Hold still for a moment more.” Even though he didn’t move, and his eye was held open Sam must have seen the increase of fear in his eyes.

“It’s just another drop. No more needles." Sam directed a word to the doctor; "Right?” 

“Right. It’s just antibiotics, then were done.”

Dean still laid still and looked to the left at Sam when the drop hit. He was still tense in his whole body when the metal thing was removed. Sam turned his head so they were face to face. “You still here?”

Dean loosened up, then his arms found their way to his stomach. He closed his eyes and hunched his back and neck. Sam jolted from the bed, leaving Dean’s one side cold. He tried to open his eyes but it only made him dizzy and he was sure he would roll of the bed. A hand appeared on his back, pushing him gently but firmly forward. He emptied his stomach in the trashcan over the side of the bed. His body was limp and he could do nothing to help holding himself up. Hell, right now he didn’t even know were up was. He continued vomiting and had no idea for how long. He thought it would never end. The trashcan was visible one moment and gone the next. He heard Sam putting it down on the floor and felt two strong hands on his shoulders. Two more were on his head, making its impact with the mattress slow and steady.

He started to open his eyes. “Keep your eyes closed for a minute. Steady yourself first.” Mark’s voice seemed calm, like this wasn’t the first time. At least that’s what Dean told himself while he was lying on his back with his eyes closed, holding his brother’s hand. At least he hoped it was Sam’s.

“Sammy?”

“I’m here.” Sam squeezed his hand. “Keep your eyes closed for a minute and we’ll leave in five. Okay?”

“Okay.”


	6. A deal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The awkward aftermath in the car.  
> Sam's tooth are hurting from the blow Dean laid on him earlier.

Dean was driving. Sam had fought him on that, but it had been no use. Sam was sure he could see Dean’s mind drifting off from time to time, and didn’t feel entirely secure with him at the wheel. The eye-patch, Dean had been told to wear, wasn't helping Sam feel at ease either. Dean hadn’t said a word since he started the engine and Sam had no idea how to start or if he even should.

“Dean?” He tried. Ready for a snappy comeback. There was just silence. He looked at his brother, not sure he’d even heard him. “Dean?!”

“I’m not talking about it Sam.” Dean didn’t look over he just stared empty at the road. Sam hated making Dean talk and this was definitely one of the times he would very much like to let it go, but he knew the next days, maybe weeks, would be unbearably awkward.

“Dean we need to clear the air, here.” Sam held his jaw with his hand. It hurt like hell and he kept tasting the iron from blood, which he was sure came from the tooth jumping up and down in the back of his mouth.

“Can we for once just forget about it? Sam, I don’t want to play shrink and nutcase with you.” Dean started to sound angry but mostly he just sounded tired. Why weren’t he driving back to the motel?

“Okay.” Sam paused and noticed the surprise on Dean’s face. “But you are going to hear what I say first.”

Dean was about to say something but Sam cut him off. “You don’t have to say anything. I’ll talk and then we can never mention this again, if that’s what you want.”

The next minute was silent. Sam could practically hear the wheels turning in Dean’s mind.

“Let it out then, Dr. Freud.” Sam flinched at the name. If he was to talk about psychoanalysis, he wouldn’t use Freud. Especially not around his brother.

Sam chose his words ever so carefully. He wouldn’t put it past Dean to throw him out of the car. “I need you to know…”

“Here come the feelings.”

“Just listen, your hard head.” Sam looked out on the dark road, again wondering where they were going. “I need you to know that I won’t ever tell anyone about what happened.”

“You better not!” Dean looked at him and he saw anger and fear in his older brother’s eyes. Sam sighed and looked back on the road.

“I know you didn’t _want_ to react like that, but sometimes our brain and body takes over.” He paused and waited for another comeback, but it didn’t come, so he continued. “This is a good thing Dean.”

Dean pulled the car over, turned off the engine and looked at Sam. “How the hell can this be a good thing?! I was not even aware of where I was and you had too…” He trailed off. Looked down. Sam couldn’t see if he was angry or embarrassed, possibly both. He looked up again. “…you had to _hold_ me. Not tie me up or hold me down, but actually _hold_ me.”

“It’s okay Dean.”

“No! It’s not okay. Tell me, why is that a good thing?”

Sam took a deep breath as he could see water gathering in Dean’s eyes. “I know now. I can help if something happens again. I can help keep it a secret and we don’t even have to talk about it. You don’t have to worry about hiding it from me, or what I might think.”

“What you might think?” Dean looked out the windshield. “Let me tell you what _I_ think. I think, you are about to go all protector and shower me in pity every time I need patching up. I want it to go back to before where you just found a bucket for me to puke in and then let me do my thing.”

Sam looked at his hands. Dean was right, he tended to worry and it had worked okay with the old arrangement. “Let’s make a deal then. I won’t talk about it and I won’t do anything more than I have been doing, unless you tell me too…” He paused and thought the night through. “…or unless you’re spiraling out of control.”

Dean sat still, as if he was thinking it over. Then he turned the key and headed out on the road again.

“I can work with that. Just don’t tell anyone.”

They drove for a while. Sam wondered how the hell he would get Dean back for a follow up in two weeks. The doctor had not hidden the possibility that he would have to do it again. Right now, he settled for peace and quiet and being in some kind of agreement with Dean. He was tired and didn’t keep an eye on the route, he had given up on guessing where they were headed. He wasn’t sleeping though. He stayed awake, because he had a feeling Dean could fall asleep at the wheel any minute. It might not have been possible for him to sleep anyway. His tooth was making a big deal of itself, and Sam wondered if it would stop bleeding soon. He must have swallowed a cup’s worth of blood by now and he started to feel sick. He looked at Dean who looked like he was already sleeping except his eyes were open.

“Maybe I should drive for a while, so you can get some shut-eye. Where are we going anyway?”

“I found a name in you little blue book, who can help with your tooth.”

Was it really that obvious that it was his tooth and not just the jaw? Sam must have looked as bad as he felt.

“Who?” Sam wasn’t looking forward to another appointment on this day, but he would like for the pain to stop.

“I can’t believe that you wrote him in there. Are you planning on handing it down to someone?”

Sam suddenly recognized were they were. He smiled to himself. Of course, they didn’t need to visit a specialist for a tooth.

“Bobby.”

**Author's Note:**

> To read what happened at Bobby's, read the next story in this series. A "one-shot" called >Sam's Tooth<
> 
> If you want to see fan-art of Dean wearing an eye-patch, check out >Eye Patch study< by Thruterryseyes.  
> I love her art.


End file.
